


Preparations

by fanaticismrestrained



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Black Romance, Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-29
Updated: 2015-10-29
Packaged: 2018-04-28 20:26:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5104634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanaticismrestrained/pseuds/fanaticismrestrained
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darkleer has an awful day at work, and learns more about what one of his compatriots has been planning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Preparations

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short fic to accompany a wonderful piece of artwork by tumblr user kdubzart... it was wonderful and I wanted to write something to go with it! I hope this is enjoyable! It's an AU in which Darkleer was not exiled.

The night was going horribly for Darkleer.

Three back to back meetings, an audience with the highblood, sitting in to two unnecessarily gory executions, and with barely enough time in between to get his hands on a meal. The night was beginning to wane, and he finally had the opportunity to retreat to his office.

The block was rather isolated, and felt even more so now that many of the other officials and workers were going hive. His footsteps were noticeable as he approached his office, and he placed a hand on the knob to open the door. His muscles tensed slightly, and he turned the knob just a little bit.

To his surprise, it seemed the knob was stuck. He tried again, putting only a little more strength behind it, and became convinced that the door was locked.

That was, to say the least, disconcerting. He'd been in such a rush all night that he'd never had a chance to lock his office behind him.

He retrieved his key, quickly putting it into the lock. The muscles in his body tensed as he unlocked the door, preparing himself for the worst. Darkleer threw the door open, quick on his feet. Just as quickly, his pose slackened and his face twisted into a scowl.

The intruder was sitting in his chair, his feet propped up on the desk. He hadn't moved any of Darkleer's possessions in the block, so the husktop, bookshelves, fine art... all of it was in order. The only real mess was on the surface of the desk. Though the papers had been filed and stacked up neatly, the exposed space had plenty of mud, dirt, and other debris on it.

"Hey, doll. Nice of you to finally drop in." The bronzeblood had an unusual outfit on, one that did not fit normal regulations. A quick scan of the block helped Darkleer locate the normal uniform the troll must've worn into the building.

Darkleer scoffed, reaching to get the door and close it, locking it behind him. "Get your dirty boots off my desk, General Nitram. I don't need you muddying up my desk with your filth."

"Oh, yeah, and clearly I'm the only one who's a mess." He grinned, gesturing at Darkleer's head. Darkleer ran a few fingers through his hair reflexively, finding that it was getting unruly. The night really had done a number on him. 

Darkleer unbuttoned his shirt a little, letting out a sigh as the cold air wicked away some of the sweat on his chest. He quickly rebuttoned it, then reached for a comb. He needed to be well-groomed. "You don't look any better after an audience with the Grand Highblood, Summoner. I've not had a particularly slow night."

The Summoner scoffed and smiled, leaning back in the chair. "Yeah, I know. I'm pulling your damn leg. You know you don't need to make yourself look all pretty for me, right? It's common knowledge you get to be a big, sweaty, toned brute after about an hour of exertion."

The response was little more than a grunt as Darkleer combed his hair back, getting it a bit more manageable before putting it into a hairtie. "I suppose getting cozy with a copious number of barnyard animals must really strain the muscles, mustn't it?" He smirked for a moment. "Why are you here, and why couldn't you make an appointment for it?"

"Yeah, working with your people can get pretty tough." Summoner finally removed his feet from the desk, standing up and righting his jacket. "This is why."

Another shift, a shrug of his shoulders, and wings blossomed forth from his back. Darkleer was taken aback for a short moment, and he watched. They were translucent and tinted heavily with bronze. Summoner rolled his shoulders as they reached their full span, fluttering behind him.

This was an important occasion, and Darkleer knew just how to respond. "So, it's about time for you to show everyone that you are, in truth, simply a small, beautiful butterfly?"

The Summoner froze, and smiled as Darkleer smiled in turn. "Yeah. Fly like a butterfly, sting like a bee, y'know?"

Even though the Summoner laughed for a few seconds, he couldn't maintain it for long. His laughter petered out, and when he spoke his volume had decreased. "It's almost time. Much of the resources are prepped for the revolution. Within a week or so, I plan get things started." 

Darkleer paused, and when he spoke again, his voice had lowered in volume, but his tone had softened. "Are you certain you're prepared? There is no way to start over once we have begun, Summoner."

The Summoner shook his head, far away from anything his horns could knock over. "We can't afford to wait, Darkleer. Not anymore. Warmblood treatment is worsening. The Empress is still trying to expand. We've gotta interrupt her before she starts another war, before we lose more people and destroy another culture."

Silence settled into the room as Darkleer examined the Summoner. His posture was impeccable, and the laughter was gone from his eyes. Darkleer blinked, then sighed as he averted his gaze.

"I understand. However, it is imperative that you realize that we cannot afford for this to go wrong. There are so few of us left, and our numbers have only dwindled after the death of the Neophyte."

Summoner crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. "I'm not a fool, Darkleer. I know how important this is..." 

A smirk crossed his face and his eyes lit up anew. "I mean, if you're scared, you don't have to help, y'know." The smile only widened as Darkleer recoiled.

"Are you attempting to imply I'm a coward?" 

"I don't know." The Summoner leaned forward slightly, getting himself into the air. It always helped to get a little bit of height when they were trying to speak eye to eye. "Are you?"

Darkleer frowned, cracking the knuckles on both of his hands. "I have waited many sweeps for this, Summoner. I have been burdened with my guilt for many more lifetimes than you can consider. I am not afraid. I am cautious." He slowed, looking over at his desk. One of the drawers still contained a scrap of teal fabric and a curious grey necklace.

"From what you've told me, Redglare's passing wasn't because of her sympathies. It was because someone couldn't face their own crimes. We know we're in the right. I know we can do this. Even if we can't... it's better to die trying to make a change than die because you kept waiting."

The Summoner drew close to him, putting one arm on his shoulder. "Come on. We can do this. I mean, I can do it myself... bet I could do it even better than you could-"

Darkleer sneered, nose wrinkling as he started to lift his arm. "Don't you even dare. I know what I'm doing. I'm going to help. I just want to know we're at our best. I know I'm ready, but I can't always vouch for your people."

Darkleer twisted his body to move away from the Summoner, still wrinkling his nose at the fairy boy's grin. "Now get off me. I've got to clean up the mess you've made on my desk before someone sees." 

Forethought and preparation were some of Darkleer's best skills, and he reached for a small towel in one of the drawers in his desk. Despite his demand, the Summoner kept leaning on him, a smirk resolutely stuck on his face. "Nah. You don't have to clean it up. I mean, come on, we're fucking off for good in a week or so. Why do you need to get it so clean?"

Even as he spoke, Darkleer was wiping off his desk and almost polishing it with his towel. "Even though I've been looking forward to this for many sweeps, I still have a reputation to hold up for the Empress and the Court before we dash it on the cobblestones."

Riotous laughter came from Summoner, and he needed to stabilize himself on Darkleer so he wouldn't fall down. "Oh, come on! We haven't had cobblestones for centuries, you fucking fossil!"

He even started to poke Darkleer's head, pointing out white spots in his hair. "I mean, look at you! Your hair is even turning gray!"

Darkleer wheeled, throwing the towel to the floor, rolling his eyes. "That's only because making sure you don't get yourself killed has taken decades off my life!"

Still airborne, the Summoner smirked and put his arms around Darkleer's neck, leaning in close with a smile. "Slow old codger."

Darkleer gripped Summoner's waist lightly, careful not to break him despite the roughness of his touch. "Rebellious little pixie."

The two of them stared into each other's eyes for a short time, the tempered, cool blue of Darkleer's meeting the fiery, warm bronze of Summoner's. 

They locked lips shortly after, Darkleer moving so as to allow Summoner to rest his rear on his desk.

When they left early in the morning, Darkleer's desk looked even worse than when he had arrived.


End file.
